And He Cried
by raven443
Summary: War has been hard on Harry Potter. One night he reflex on what war has cost him and what may happen in the future. OneShot


Standard Disclaimer: I do not own them they belong to JKR. If you do not know that, I fear for your sanity.

Harry sat in his room, it was the summer before his seventh year and he wondered if he was going to make it to his own graduation. He wondered as he did every year if his luck was going to ware out. For that had been what has kept him alive for so long… It sometimes seemed his very life was a testament to how much his mum loved him. His first defeat of Voldemort, when he was no more then a toddler, and his killing of Quirrell both happened because of the protection she left, when she gave her life up for him.

It always seemed like a true tale of love to anyone on the outside of his life, but sometimes he knew, he would give it all up for just a few more moments with her.

She ruled his life, even though she had been in it for such a short time. Never had he managed to have a successful romantic relationship with anyone, no one ever seemed to measure up to the perfect picture of what love was in his mind.

He knew he should not compare everyone to his mum, but he just could not help it. He had always idolized his dad… Well until he saw, in Snape's pensive, what an utter jerk he was. It was at that moment that it became all about his mum. She who could be nice to a student that hated her for existing, who could tame the prat out of his father, she who became perfect in his mind.

More and more of his lonely days were spent on thoughts of his mum. It had almost become an unhealthy obsession for him. As he sat hour after hour wondering about her, so much time that he was losing touch with reality. It became all about her.

He imagined facing Voldemort one day informing him, "My name is Harry Potter, you killed my mum… Prepare to die."

He had seen this in a movie when he was younger. Yet, it was only now; many years later that he understood what allowed you to want that kind of retribution. Many of his friends had assumed that it would be Sirius that caused him to hate enough to kill Voldemort.

While his heart ached over Sirius death, it was the loss of his mum that caused his tears everyday this summer.

Harry pulled his threadbare blanket off the bed, and wandered listlessly over to his window. It was night now and the stars were always beautiful. Even though he knew that stars were, in fact, far away stars, he liked to image that they were his mum, dad, and even Sirius looking down on him. Watching him from afar, helping him in his time of need.

He needed them now more then ever, the end of his sixth year followed the pattern of the previous years. Voldemort had attacked Hogsmeade on their last trip, luckily only a few students were lost. However, he had a hard time thinking about returning to the Gryffindor Common room without the constant chatter of Colon Creevey and the girlish giggles from Lavender Brown.

The tears streamed down his cheeks, as he remembered how Hermione had been severely hurt helping him fight, Voldemort. They had finally managed to injure him, after about twenty minutes of battle. It ended up being an archaic curse that made him flee… well flee for now. One they had only known, because of the extra research for Dumbledore's Army.

The brave students in his defense club had stood with him all the way. Never backing down, even when facing possible death, he did not know whether to be proud of them or angry that they would not flee in the face of danger. He had to be there, but these kids… his friends had lives to live, people to fall in love with, futures to live.

He felt the weight of responsibility grow heaver still. His friends faced Deatheaters because of him. Someday they might even die because of him. He had the protection that his mum gave him, but they had nothing. Maybe a few spells that would delay their deaths, however the angel of death would eventually come for them.

He remembered the picture of the original Order of Phoenix that Mad-eye had shown him. All young and idealistic… now almost all dead. Would he look back at his Hogwarts yearbook and see the faces of his past looking at him, blaming him for their deaths.

His mind ran through threw out the maudlin possibilities. "Why didn't you save me, Harry? I looked up to you… You were my hero. Why did you let me die?" He imagined Colin asking him.

A strangled gasp rose from his throat. It was his fault… all his fault. They were all dead because of him.

He sat and cried, shivering slightly under his thin blanket. Sometime later, he drifted off to sleep, tears still wet on his cheeks. His mind vowing that never was another friend going to die because of him… Somehow, someway he was going to defeat him, soon.

_Authors note: This was just a little piece that came to me; well I think I might have been listening to depressing music. I wanted to show some feeling for Harry's mum. It always seems like she is glossed over, here is someone that gave her life for her child, yet it is James that is always spoken of. This is unbeta-ed so all mistakes are mine. Thanks for taking the time to read my little one shot. Let me know what you think. :) _


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